Slim Chances
by frostingdoodle
Summary: At the end of the day, fate was a funny thing.
1. Chapter 1

_So this is something I've toyed with for a long time. Take away the apocalypse, how would these characters interact? _

_It's a Rick x Andrea based story that will feature other characters and other storylines, but Rick and Andrea will be the root of it, it's **their **story. I do have the whole thing mapped out, so bear with me._

* * *

Harrison Memorial Hospital was a small hospital in the small town of King County, Georgia. With only four to five floors it catered to those in need when needed. It never saw the likes of a highway pileup or a trigger happy fool in a shopping mall, and was never overrun or too busy like so many of the big city hospitals.

But never in a million years did Andrea - Andrea Harrison, big hotshot Civil Rights Attorney from Florida - think she would end up in such a small town, in a small hospital, waiting on news from the doctors about her younger sister.

The road trip had been their mother's idea originally. She had planted it in Andrea's mind during her last visit home. With Andrea working a lot and Amy busy at college she thought the road trip would be good for their sisterhood.

Admittedly, Andrea dismissed the idea, but soon came to see the good in it.

Only on their way back to Amy's college they were hit by a driver running a red light. Boy, was she going to sue his ass. She hadn't been injured but Amy, on the other hand, had. A broken wrist from what she had heard but she was still going out of her mind with worry. She had tried contacting their parents but the reception was bad and only added to her worry and frustration.

Currently she paced the length of the waiting room. With white tiles, blue wallpaper, simple chairs and a stack of magazines that had been read one too many times, the scenery was driving her out of her mind.

Save for one other person - an elderly man who sat alone with a cap in his hands and his head down, the room was relatively empty.

To stop herself from making a scene and marching up to the hospital personnel she pulled out her BlackBerry and dialed in the familiar number that was her father's. When met with that dreaded beeping tone and an automated voice she just about threw the damn device on the floor.

She was still rattled. She had never been in an accident before that. Though granted it hadn't been serious and she thanked God for that, it was still an accident and Amy was still somewhere in the hospital being treated for her injuries.

"Pacing won't help," the male's voice filtered through her thoughts and she turned to see him looking at her with sympathetic eyes.

Andrea wasn't sure if she wanted to snap at him about minding his own business or appreciate his concern.

"I can't just sit down and wait," she admitted with a tired sigh.

The old man gave a knowing smile and something about it told her that he was no stranger to hospitals.

"Family member?" He asked knowingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling somewhat.

"Sister," she answered hesitantly. "Some asshole ran a red light…" she added, almost through gritted teeth. She shook her head in disbelief because things like this didn't happen. Well, sure, they _happened, _just not to her. Or more importantly, not to Amy.

The man gave a nod and his lips twisted into a faint, kind of amused smile. She had somewhat of a potty mouth and often forgot others didn't share her vocabulary. The man didn't seem bothered however, if anything, he found it endearing.

"And is she going to be okay?" He asked her moments later.

Andrea's lips formed a gentle smile. The man was being so kind and compassionate towards her, and it was helping to calm her nerves. She found herself sitting down, opposite him as they engaged in a conversation about her baby sister.

"Yeah, she should be fine. A broken bone, they said. Only something minor," she rattled off.

Her answer seemed to comfort the male. He sat back, his hand containing the hat now placed on his lap. "Well I'm happy to hear that."

Andrea mirrored his gentle, fleeting smile, and then realised she hadn't even asked what he was doing there.

"And you?" She asked him a little while later, wondering if she even wanted to know the answer. Just because Amy was going to be fine didn't mean that this man's relative or friend would be.

The old man's face grew somber and his shoulders sagged as if a giant weight had been placed upon them.

"My wife," he began, "my Irma. Cancer." He shook his head with a breathy kind of ironic laugh. "I dragged her to every doctor I could find but they all said the same thing." There was a pause. She could tell that his wife wasn't going to get better. "She accepted it, but I never could."

Andrea's face softened and she lowered her gaze as he spoke.

"I retired a couple months ago, bought a new RV so we could travel across the country. A last hurrah, if you will." He seemed to smile at that, remembering a happier time. "But last week she started getting worse. This was the closet hospital I could find out on the road. The doctors say it should be any day now."

Andrea's gaze flickered over to him quickly, those last few words like a punch to her heart. "I'm so sorry."

He held up his hand as if her condolences weren't necessary. But he appreciated it and for some reason she could tell that he did.

"It appears I haven't introduced myself," he spoke after some time had passed, his hand reaching out for hers. "I'm Dale."

She reached across and took his hand. With a smile, she replied, "Andrea."

* * *

A lot of time passed, an hour and a half by her count, but Dale made it bearable.

They talked about things like they had known each other all their lives. The spoke of Dale's marriage to Irma and how they had always wanted children but didn't try anymore after their first pregnancy ended in miscarriage. While Andrea spoke of her family, her law firm, and her guilt of never being there for Amy while she was growing up.

Dale had a way with words, she noted. He spoke from experience and everything he said appeared to be laced with wisdom. It was both comforting and fascinating and Andrea could sit for hours and listen to what he had to say.

They were in the middle of a conversation about fishing, where Dale talked about owning a great pair of fishing poles and how he'd be happy to let Andrea use them anytime, when a doctor appeared at the door of the waiting room.

African-American, a little on the heavy side, with glasses hanging on her nose, she spoke while reading from the chart in front of her, "Andrea Harrison? Amy's sister?"

Andrea stood, as did Dale, and something about it made her feel at ease. The man was waiting for the doctors to be finished with his wife so he could sit at her bedside yet here he was, standing with her, as if he knew Amy. She figured after all the stories they shared, he did.

"I'm Dr. Stevens, one of your sister's doctors," the woman introduced kindly.

"_One_ of her doctors?" Andrea asked, emphasizing on the word 'one.' She looked over her shoulder, to the side at Dale because he was all she had in terms of support right now.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. And it helped.

"If you'll come with me I can take you to her, we have some things to discuss," Dr. Stevens added.

"Well, go on." Dale encouraged her.

She gave him a gentle, thanking smile and then left with Dr. Stevens.

"So, she's going to be okay?" Andrea asked as they walked through the hospital's hall, on the way to the left recovery wing.

"The damage done to Amy's wrist was quite extensive," Dr. Stevens explained. "We've done X-Rays and given her a cast and hopefully any damage done should repair itself. Now I'm aware you aren't from here which is why we'll give you the scans and in six weeks you'll need to visit your own hospital, which in that case, if the bones aren't healing correctly, she will need to have surgery."

_Surgery. _

Andrea released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Yeah, she was going to sue the guy's ass off as soon as she had her hands on him.

"And the surgery, is it an easy procedure?" Andrea pressed, awaiting answers.

Dr. Stevens nodded. "It will just be something simple to reset her bones in order for them to heal properly. But hopefully, it won't come down to that."

_Hopefully, _Andrea noted.

"And what about school, or basic things?" Andrea had a lot of questions and she wasn't afraid to ask them.

"As I said, the damage was quite extensive. She won't be able to use her left arm for a while and as you would imagine, she will need help doing some things. But your sister is a very optimistic person, I doubt she'll let it keep her down."

Andrea smiled. Amy had always seen the good in things. She was twenty-four and still such a kid in some ways; in a good way.

"And I can see her?" Andrea noticed how every question she asked started with 'and', like it was a continuation of one whole sentence, a mantra of questions.

Dr. Stevens merely gave a nod as they came to a stop outside a room. Andrea followed the doctor's gaze and smiled as she saw her sister, propped up on the bed with her arm in a cast that made her look absolutely tiny.

She entered the room swiftly with her eyes tracing over every inch of Amy. She had gotten the brunt of the blow and had her arm wedged in the door handle in the process. She sported a dark bruise under her right eye from where her head had collided with the dashboard and Andrea felt absolutely awful about letting the collision happen in the first place.

Andrea was on the edge of the bed in a matter of seconds. Her eyes rimmed with tears, all her pent up earlier emotions escaping her upon seeing her sister was okay.

"God, you scared the shit outta me," Andrea exhaled as she took Amy's uninjured hand into her own, a tear sliding down her cheek from the relief while a smile claimed her lips.

"You're easy to scare," Amy lulled in response, her eyes opening and closing heavily. She was full of pain medication and still felt a bit loopy. "Have you talked to mom and dad?"

Andrea shook her head. "Not yet, the reception's been bad. But I'll try again soon."

Amy smiled sleepily at this.

Andrea used her other hand to stroke her baby sister's hair, her fingers threading through her golden locks in a soothing and repetitive action.

"Is there anything I can get you?" She asked Amy softly.

"Chocolate," came Amy's murmur.

Andrea chuckled. Dr. Stevens had been right, Amy hadn't lost her optimism, or spunk for that matter.

"Chocolate it is." Andrea stood up and placed a kiss to Amy's forehead. "I'll be back soon," she promised with a squeeze to the hand she was currently holding, and then left the room in search of a vending machine.

She found one down the hall but saw it was already occupied by a young boy who couldn't have been older than twelve.

"Come on," he muttered, hitting the machine in annoyance as it had swallowed his money without giving him what he had paid for.

Andrea watched him for a moment. He was so young but he looked as though he carried the world on his shoulders. He had been crying too, she could tell. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were shining from tears that had fallen previously.

She dug into her pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Here," she spoke kindly, a small smile on her lips as she approached, "let me."

She slipped the coins into the machine and punched the buttons with the numbers that held the bar of chocolate he had wanted in the first place. Two fell down and the little boy reached through the flap to retrieve them. He stood up and handed her one but she dismissed him with the wave of her hand.

"Keep it," she offered and his face lit up just a little.

"Thanks." He replied and wasted no time in opening the first bar and taking a bite. He even smudged some of the softer chocolate on the corners of his lips.

"Good?" She asked knowingly and he nodded enthusiastically, his mouth too full to reply vocally.

He was a sweet kid and the fact that she was able to take his mind off of whatever had been troubling him, at least for a few minutes, was a welcomed feeling.

"So you think if I got it for my sister she'd like it?"

Yet another enthusiastic nod. The chocolate bar was almost gone by now.

She rummaged through her pocket for any spare coins, realising she had left her bag and everything else back in the waiting room. She pulled out what was left and repeated her earlier action. The bar fell down and the kid was kind enough to get it for her. He handed it over and she smiled as she took it from him.

"I'm not usually supposed to talk to strangers," the boy spoke.

"Then how come you're talking to me?" She asked him curiously.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are you here alone?" She couldn't help but ask. A boy as young as him shouldn't be wandering around a hospital.

He shook his head sadly. "My dad's here," he admitted with tears welling in his eyes.

Andrea got the sense that he had been crying for a long time now. There was a sadness to him that was contagious and her heart reached out to him. As it seemed, so did her hand, touching his cheek where his tears had fallen. She crouched now, swiping his tears away with the pad of her thumb.

"A bad guy shot him," the boy explained, "and he hasn't woken up since."

A coma, Andrea realised. Her eyes softened and her head tilted sympathetically. She dropped her hand slowly, resting it with her other against her thighs as she stayed crouching.

"Tell me about him," she requested gently. "About your dad."

Something changed in the boy, like suddenly he wasn't sad anymore. In fact she was sure she saw the trace of a smile begin to form on his lips.

"Well one time he let me drive in his cop car with him and I even got to turn on the siren," he recalled fondly. "And one time when my friend Sophia's dad was hurting her mom, he put him in jail with the other bad guys and they stayed with us for a while. He made us pancakes with big smiley faces."

Andrea listened, almost entranced. The man was God in his kid's eyes and it was beautiful. She realised then that she felt the same way about her own father.

"And one time, when a kid at school was being mean to me because I wore my dad's sheriff's hat to school, he came in at recess with a box full of the same hats and handed them out to all the kids in my class and told them how cool it was to be a sheriff." He beamed, clearly proud.

"Your dad sounds like a good guy," she commented.

The boy nodded in confirmation.

"And you know what happens to good guys?" She asked him.

He shook his head and she gestured for him to come closer because what she was about to say was a secret.

Andrea cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered into his ear. "The good guys always win."

When the boy pulled away he was smiling. A real, genuine, happy smile.

That's when a woman rounded the corner. She was tall with long brunette hair and she was smiling as tears fell from her eyes.

"Carl?" She called out and the kid she had been talking to turned around. "Come quick, baby, it's your daddy, he's awake."

Carl turned back to Andrea with disbelief coating his features, like he couldn't believe she was right and she couldn't have gotten better timing, either.

"Go!" She encouraged him, much like Dale had encouraged her, and a grin claimed her lips with a laugh quick soon to follow.

Carl mirrored her grin and quickly ran down the hall to where he took his mother's hand and followed her to his father's room.

Andrea had to take a minute, composing herself with a faraway look in her eyes, her lips forming a fleeting ghost of a smile.

She thought of the boy - Carl, and how his world had suddenly changed for the better. She thought of Dale, whose world was inevitably going to change for the worst. And she thought of Amy, her sweet little sister, who saw beauty in everything and still had her sense of humour despite being in what she could only assume to be an incredible amount of pain.

She had to wonder - because both conversations with Carl and Dale seemed to make her think - if the accident was more than just that, an accident. Not in the sense that the driver had purposely crashed into them, that was ridiculous. But fate. She wasn't sure if she believed in fate or destiny, or even God. But still, she wondered.

She collected her thoughts and stood straight yet again, returning to Amy's room where she found her sister sleeping. She spoke to a nurse who was currently adding to Amy's chart and was guided out to the main reception desk where she got things like a file and a big envelope containing Amy's scans. Six weeks and she would be back in the hospital to see if there was any progress with her wrist. Other than that, they were free to go.

"Thank you," she told the nurse sincerely.

Andrea tucked the envelope and file under her arm and turned, only to bump into a man in the process.

She stumbled and dropped everything she was holding.

The male, who was in a hospital gown, looking like he had been asleep for years, clutched onto an IV pole, his face full of apologies.

"I'm sorry." He spoke kind of hoarsely but she could detect a southern accent. Unlike herself, Amy, Dale and his wife Irma, this man definitely seemed to be from King County.

He offered to help but she shook her head quickly. The man looked like he could barely stand, let alone bend.

"It's fine, really," she dismissed, laughing a little, on her knees now as she gathered up what she had dropped.

The man gave her an apologetic smile and as she climbed to her feet, she smiled back.

They held eyes for a moment and Andrea noticed his beard, greying in nature, and his lips, cracked and dry, and the way his eyes kind of crinkled at the side and how his smile wasn't limited to his mouth but lit up every feature on his face in the process.

The man noticed how green her eyes were, a pool of memorization, and how her hair was so blonde it was golden, with loose curls escaping her less than neat pony tail. He noticed how her smile started at her lips and ended at her eyes, and he couldn't tear his own away from her.

They parted kind of awkwardly. Her with a quick smile and him with a tight nod.

And that was it, a fleeting encounter.

The man, who had been stretching his legs, went back to his room where his wife and son were waiting, and Andrea went back to where Amy was waking up and explained the news to her.

After a brief encounter with Dale who had kept an eye on her things, and after exchanging numbers and giving all her best to Irma and him to Amy, she and her sister left King County.

But she felt as though a part of her stayed behind. With Dale, with Carl, with the man. And it wasn't logical, but it felt almost familiar.

And again, she had to wonder...

At the end of the day, fate was a funny thing.

* * *

_And so that's chapter one. Let me know what you think!_

_(Is still in a little Rick/Andrea bubble, refusing to believe the season three finale actually happened)_


	2. Chapter 2

He knew.

The moment he stepped into the house, he knew.

It wasn't reasonable, it wasn't even logical, but he just _knew_. It gnawed at him, a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. It tugged and pulled and told him that something was off, something he couldn't see, but something he could feel. He just knew.

Rick Grimes had awoken from a coma induced by a gunshot three weeks earlier. Everything had been groggy at first, coming back to him in flashes. Like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit. He remembered it slowly in the beginning and then it came back to him like water bursting through a dam.

Lunch with Shane, the radio call, the chase, the bullet hitting his vest and then another hitting his back and tearing through his flesh with a red hot pain he didn't think was possible.

He remembered Shane's pained face, his hands pressing down on his chest where the bullet had made an exit wound, and then everything had faded to black until he woke up in a hospital bed so many weeks later.

But ever since he woke up, those three weeks ago in Harrison Memorial Hospital, things hadn't been the same.

At first it had been great. Being with Lori, being with Carl. It was as if all those arguments before the coma had never happened. But when he was allowed home, when he had healed physically, it was as if nothing had changed and suddenly everything was the same again.

The arguments, the screaming, the cruel words, and Carl listening from his bedroom.

"I'm not a mind reader, Rick!" Lori would yell at him, hoping more than anything that he would say something; just _speak_.

_Use your words, _he told himself again and again. But anything he could say, or would say, came up short and so he would always just leave instead because it felt easier.

He had been welcomed with open arms back at the station but not from his own wife. Maybe some things couldn't change, maybe he and Lori were incapable of it. But she was his wife, the mother of his child, he had to try.

That's why he cut his shift in half without telling her, to surprise her. He had spent the morning with Leon Basset (dumb kid, he didn't think much of him) because Shane was out with a case of the flu, the poor son of a bitch.

He held a bouquet of roses as he entered through the door of his house but something didn't feel right. Lori wasn't cooking or cleaning, hell she wasn't even about the house doing whatever it was she did while he was working.

It was just... silent.

"Lori?"

He waited, but heard nothing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with this thumb and forefinger and exhaled slowly. Then he turned left, entering through the entranceway that lead to their room.

That's where he found them.

Shane _and _Lori. His best friend, his _brother, _and his wife.

They were together. In his home, in his bed. Lori's nails clawed at Shane's back and Shane's lips claimed her lips, lips that weren't even his to kiss in the first place.

He stood motionless unable to comprehend the sight he was witnessing. The roses fell from his hand and suddenly everything was unfolding at a pace too fast for him to register.

"Oh shit, Rick!" Shane exclaimed loudly, shell shocked as he moved to cover himself with the sheets.

"Rick?!" The surprise and horror was evident in Lori's voice as she scrambled too, pulling on one of Rick's t-shirts. She was out of the bed in a matter of seconds, the t-shirt hanging just above her knees.

"Rick, baby, this isn't-" and when she reached out to touch his face, he recoiled.

Jaw tense, his eyes holding the betrayal he felt, Rick stepped back as if her touch burned him. He was there, but he wasn't _there. _Lori's voice faded out into the background and the sound of nothing caved in. He felt as though his eardrums were losing their ability to hear. Like everything was being swallowed into a black hole of nothingness and he stood at the centre.

There were no excuses to be told. Lori couldn't say it wasn't what it looked like because it was exactly what it looked like. She stood, her face shattered, her legs buckling as she covered her mouth with her hands.

"I guess the flu is the new code word for screwing my wife? Am I right, brother?" Rick directed at Shane the moment he found his voice again.

But he spoke so evenly that he had to wonder who the hell the voice belonged to because it sure as hell wasn't him. He was so calm, so still, but his insides were vibrating with a range of emotions that he couldn't even begin to comprehend or even understand.

Shane bowed his head, there was nothing he could say, no way he could even begin to make it right or explain.

With Lori's cries echoing in Rick's ears he turned around and left, slamming the screen door without so much as a glance backwards in the process.

He got into his car and he drove. He drove until he didn't recognize the scenery anymore, until night was almost upon him. Low on fuel he came to a stop outside of a farm. He sat alone with his thoughts for a while and when they caught up to him he beat his hands against the steering wheel, the noise from the horn so loud that the horses in the field ahead scattered in fright.

It didn't feel real. Was it real? He felt like he was floating, white noise buzzing in his ears.

"What happened to us?" He asked aloud, his thoughts bouncing around the car, his eyes squinting as the sun's lowering rays penetrated the windshield in front of him. "Is this… is this real?" He all but whispered, touching the steering wheel gingerly. His eyes found his left hand in their aimless travel and he stared at his wedding ring, the wedding ring which served as nothing but a mocking purpose at that point.

'_Till death do us part. _Yeah, right.

He pulled it from his finger with a pained sigh and examined it closely. He looked at it, rolled it between his fingers, clenched it in his fist and gave a moments thought to throwing it out the window.

Tossing it onto the dashboard he exited the car and decided to lean up against the fence a few feet ahead, the one looking onto the farm where the horses had been grazing not long ago.

"You alright there, son?"

Rick craned his head around to see an elderly man behind him who stood with a basket of freshly picked eggs. The farmer, he assumed.

The man looked at Rick closely as if he was examining him. Rick looked defeated, he hadn't even answered the male's question and the man wondered if he even had an answer for him.

"One could say that you are trespassin'," the man added slowly. He walked until he stood beside Rick and lowered the basket onto the ground beside his feet with a heavy breath.

"S- sorry," Rick stammered, his eyebrows scrunching. "I'm a cop." It was all he could seem to say at that point.

The man dismissed him with a wave of his hand and a nod ahead. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

The horses that Rick had scared off earlier were now at the top of the field grazing on the grass in front of them. Rick was hesitant but he followed the man's gaze anyway. He watched the horses, the way their mane's moved and bobbed with each dip of their head, the way they brushed off one another and lived a quiet and calm existence.

Suddenly Rick felt a wave of calm serenity wash over him and he wondered if that had been the man's goal all along.

"I'm Rick Grimes," he introduced with a fleeting smile while offering his hand.

"Hershel Greene," the older man replied, taking his hand in a firm shake.

"Tell me Rick," Hershel started after they shook hands and spent a moment in silence watching the horses, "what's got you troubled?"

Rick exhaled an ironic laugh. He didn't even know where to begin. He wasn't sure where his troubles started or where they ended, or if there were any in between.

But he found himself spilling his thoughts anyway.

* * *

Every time a car passed, its headlights beaming in through the window, Lori got her hopes up. And every time the vehicle continued on, she was let down. It wasn't Rick. It was never Rick.

"He should be back by now…" she spoke aloud, pacing the length of the living room. Her fingers played with the necklace around her neck and in the corner sat Shane, watching her.

"He just," Shane paused to exhale, "he just needs time. Lori, he'll come back." He reassured her. Though, truthfully, Shane wasn't even sure he wanted him to.

"It's been hours." Lori continued, choosing to ignore Shane's words. "He's not like that, he would never just _leave_." She knew what she was saying was true because even if Rick could bring himself to leave her, he'd never leave Carl.

Shane stared down at his hands, narrowing his eyebrows in thought. Like Lori his mind was racing but their thoughts were polar opposites. It was the end of the world for her, but it felt like the beginning of his.

"Maybe I should call his brother," she started, "he could-"

"Lori," Shane cut her off with a deep exhale and a breathy laugh with a quick smile. He stood up slowly and crossed the distance to close the gap between them. "Hey," he cupped the side of her face and forced her to look at him. "Isn't this what you wanted?" He asked her. "You and me? Rick knows now, see…"

Shane came to a sudden stop as he saw the look of appall spreading onto her features. She shook her cheek free of his hand and stepped back, her hand up in defense like she couldn't believe he was saying such a thing.

"He is my _husband_," she told him forcefully, "and I love him. This was just…"

"What?" Shane shot out, his patience wearing thin. "What was it, Lori? Tell me, go on," he dared her.

Lori closed her eyes momentarily. "A mistake," she exhaled evenly.

"Nah, see that's bullshit." He closed the gap between them again, aching to touch her. She felt the same, he knew she did. His judgement was clouding but he refused to believe that she didn't feel the same.

Lori didn't retreat this time. She simply stared at him, her conflicted eyes staring into his pained ones.

"Shane," she spoke in protest as he backed her into the wall by the fireplace. He had his hand on her hip and was reaching under her top. "Shane," she repeated with her tone wavering.

More firmly now, he was groping her skin. Lori attempted to push him away, tried to grab a hold of his shoulders but found she was unable to under his crushing strength.

"Shane, don't do this." There was desperation in her tone as his nose brushed against her neck, his lips following in open-mouthed kisses, and she felt disgusted.

Shane told himself that Lori wanted it, of course she did. Of course she did, of course she did, of course she did. It was a mantra in his head.

His hand was getting dangerously higher, his fingers skimming over the material of her bra.

"_Please_," she cried out. She continued to try and push him away but she felt pinned, _was _pinned, and couldn't find a grip strong enough to break free.

Shane kissed her jaw line, ignoring her pleas because she wanted this, he was so sure she did. She never stopped him before, she was just confused. So he moved his hand lower and lower and lower…

"That's enough!" Lori yelled as she found her footing and her nails came in contact with his neck, scratching him deeply and forcing him off of her with a yelp.

Shane was stunned and stood back, his eyes full of shame and regret. He looked down at his hands as if they were foreign to him.

"Lori…"

Lori swallowed deeply, holding in a sob as she shook her head.

"Mom?"

Carl appeared in the doorway with a confused look on his small features. He glanced over at Shane and then at his mother, wondering what had happened between the two. He was young, but he wasn't stupid.

He got no answer, no explanation, no anything.

All three stood in silence until Shane made the first move, telling Carl to, "go hug your mom" before he made his exit.

"Mom?" Carl repeated but earned no response from his mother. He got the feeling that something big had happened between his mom and Shane but what that was exactly, he didn't know. So he did as Shane had said and walked over to where Lori stood, his arms encircling her in a tight hug.

Lori returned the embrace and dropped to her knees so she could enjoy it better and as she did, tears rolled down her cheeks.

* * *

After explaining everything to Hershel like he was a priest at confession, Rick stared ahead unsure if he wanted to hear the old man's opinion. He had just spilled his guts, told this stranger everything he felt, everything that had happened and everything he had witnessed.

"Rick?" Hershel spoke after countless minutes had passed.

Hesitantly, Rick turned his head to look at the old man.

"Do you love your wife?" Hershel asked him simply.

It was such a simple question but Rick froze, he hadn't expected such a direct response from Hershel.

Rick paused to think it over. He did… didn't he? He was so sure he did. It was Lori, his childhood sweetheart, his wife, the mother of child. Of course loved her.

"I do," he answered with a terse jaw.

Hershel gave him a sad smile and Rick wondered why that was but as soon as he heard the man's next question, he understood.

"Are you _in love _with her?"

Rick fell silent, his head lowered.

"There's your answer," he told Rick, patting his back solemnly.

* * *

Rick didn't want to be that man, the kind of man who stayed with his wife out of obligation. It wasn't fair to him, it wasn't fair to Lori, and it certainly wasn't fair to Carl.

He thought about it during the drive home. He filled up on gas, ate a burger, and drove through the darkness. Hours passed and he thought. He just... _thought._

He loved Lori but as Hershel pointed out, he wasn't _in love_ with her. Or maybe he was and he was just confused. He was allowed to be confused, he was allowed to feel hurt and betrayed. But somehow he felt as though _he _was the one that owed _her _an explanation.

When he arrived home he entered through the doorway like a dead man walking. He was exhausted, so much that he wanted to get into bed and sleep for days, but there was a talk to be had and as he turned into the living room, he spotted the source of his confliction sitting with their sleeping son.

Lori looked defeated. She barely glanced at him, she just stroked Carl's hair, his head on her lap. Through the moonlight that lit the room he could see her cheeks, glistening with tears.

"I was shot," he spoke, out of nowhere really, confusing the hell out of his wife.

Lori parted her lips to speak but he silenced her with the slow shake of his head, and stepped a little closer.

"I was shot," he repeated, his voice finding more of a ground, "and I was in a coma and Shane was there."

She now understood what he was doing. She looked at him from her position on the couch to find he was looking at her so intently awaiting an answer that she gave him a nod.

"Shane was there when your world went to shit and then I woke up and it was like before. _Our _world went to shit and Shane was there. He was there when I wasn't."

"I…" she exhaled and stopped. She really didn't know what to say. She didn't know why Rick took it upon himself, took the blame upon himself, but it was a trait of his. He took the world on his shoulders and everything affected him personally.

Rick walked over slowly and bent down to place his hand over Lori's on Carl's head. He stared at their hands for a moment, hers wearing a wedding ring and his bare.

"Are you done?" Lori asked him after moments had passed and he hadn't said a word.

Rick noticed she was referring to their marriage. The fact that he was without his ring wasn't lost on her.

Exhaling, Rick looked up and their eyes locked for a good few seconds before he spoke.

"I don't know."

* * *

_I would have had this chapter up sooner but my internet was gone for a couple of weeks. Sorry about that._

_This chapter was too long, I had to cut it in half (and maybe in three, it depends), so the next part should be up soon. There's still a fair bit of story to tell, both from Andrea and Rick, before we get to their eventual (proper) meeting, but hopefully you're enjoying the story and will stay with me. :)_


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